


Something So Broken

by PersonablePerson



Series: The magical Misadventures of Pen Squared [2]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Depression, Family, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Hope, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Breakdown, Post-Prison, Struggling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 09:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12340227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersonablePerson/pseuds/PersonablePerson
Summary: Sometimes we need to be reminded we're not alone. It may not heal our wounds, but it can ease the pain, just enough to keep going.





	Something So Broken

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot was inspired in part by the song "Build it Better" by Aron Wright.

He’d built up the courage to walk up to her door for possibly the billionth time since his return to the team. And just like the last time he could feel as it turned to dust, into pieces too impossibly small to put back together and place in his chest where he so desperately needed it. He squeezed his eyes shut and raised his hand in a last ditch effort to convince himself to just knock. His knuckles didn’t even graze the wood before he aborted the motion and turned to go back to his desk. Mentally he went over the checklist in his mind of what he was taking home with him tonight in his messenger bag.

Spencer felt the weight on his wrist, the familiar feeling of long multi-colored nails, and the smell of bubble gum and watermelon sweets. He turned to his captor who’d apparently given up waiting for him to come to her. It surprised him that no part of him felt resistance when she gently tugged him into her office. His hand reaching back to close the door behind to shut the door was an afterthought.

“After Hankel, I never wanted to feel like a victim again. This job, how do we carry these badges, train with guns, and hunt criminals? Understand them inside and out and-. She broke me and I don’t know how to come back from this.”

The entire time he spoke to his worn Chuck Taylors that barely felt like his anymore. The hand still holding his wrist slid down over his own.

She understood the question he was asking. Knew it was coming from the first time she’d seen him approach her door only to walk away, his shoulders falling further each time. She’d seen the look in his eyes many times before. She’d seen it in eyes of families broken by tragedy. She’d seen it in the mirror for many years after the loss of her own family.

Penelope knew there was no chance of getting him to attend one of the group therapy sessions she hosted. It wasn’t about pride. Not entirely anyways. A few of the people in her group were from cases he’d worked. They didn’t need those wounds ripped open. Spencer didn’t need another therapist. He needed support only his chosen family could give him, in a way only someone who truly understood him could offer.

Sometimes it was accepting a call at 2 am. Sometimes she’d pour herself a cup of tea while he walked her through a science journal he’d read on his morning commute. Others, he’d listen while she explained a program she was writing on while she tried to find the bug that was keeping it from working. They’d be watching Doctor Who side by side on his couch when he’d say something that would make her blood run cold. Once his goodbye sounded a little too final over the phone. She showed up at his door. Emergency key already in hand. Not even breathing as she turned the knob. Her steps were slow at first, she made it to the hall to his bedroom and suddenly she was running towards the half open door.

The sight that greeted her wasn’t what she expected. He just sat there on the floor behind his bed. Legs sprawled in front of him. He didn’t look up at her. He couldn’t. The guilt was already eating at him. Guilt over frightening her, knowing he’d probably pulled her from sleep after the case he’d just returned from. The case that led him to fall to the floor. Bringing up all the feelings and thoughts that made him want to just let himself drown. Penelope wasn’t having it.

She sat down next to him. Sliding close so her side pressed close to his down to one of his mismatched socks. At some point during the night her head fell to his shoulder.  Moments later his rested on top of hers.

When Garcia woke the next day it took her less than a second to realize it wasn’t in her own bed. It took a bit longer for the night before to come back to her. The moment she did she was up ready to tear apart the world to find her boy wonder. In her panic the smell of coffee didn’t permeate her sense until she saw him standing in his small kitchenette pouring a mug full. The instant their eyes met she could see the apology forming on his lips.

“I’m sorry If I scared you yesterday. I shouldn’t have….”

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay to have dark days and it’s always okay to call me. Day or night, that’s not going to change. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here for you no matter what.”

Spencer’s knees wobbled and he once again found himself sitting in a chair beside Penelope Garcia. This time his hands tugged at his curly locks. The day before his eyes had felt barren, to match the numbness in his chess. When he’d woken up he could feel a tightness in its place so harsh he thought his heart would stop any minute. But as Penelope rubbed her affirmations into his back with the same gentleness with which she’d tugged him into her office two months earlier he felt it lessen just the tiniest bit. It wasn’t much. Just barely notable. It wasn’t hope. Not quite yet, but rather the promise of hope.  


End file.
